


Never Fading Starlight

by creepy_shetan



Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Chinese Translation Available, Community: comment_fic, Gen, Inspired by Music, M/M, Translation Available, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-02-03 05:24:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1732742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creepy_shetan/pseuds/creepy_shetan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alcatraz is no longer a war zone, and John is no longer unconscious.</p><p>(Originally posted 2010/1/29 as a fill for a prompt.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Fading Starlight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [i_lovejs](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=i_lovejs).
  * Translation into 中文 available: [Never Fading Starlight 不灭星光](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1880568) by [fakeSalome](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fakeSalome/pseuds/fakeSalome)



Knocking John out during the final showdown didn't lead to a happy ending. At least not initially.

After Bobby had carried (dragged) Pyro to safety and the chaotic climax fell away to a muted conclusion, there was still the aftermath to be dealt with by the survivors. Bobby was quickly pulled in to assist the other mutants -- _all_ of them, members of the X-Men or not. The words "ally" and "enemy" held little meaning anymore... Funny how it had meant everything only yesterday. Bobby was running back and forth, passing out supplies, administering basic first aid, putting out fires, digging people (and bodies) out of the rubble, guiding those with minor injuries part of the way safely out of the battlefield, and doing so many other tasks here and errands there that he couldn't keep track of them all. 

Or rather, he didn't _want_ to remember it all. He kept himself busy and just ran on auto-pilot. It wasn't difficult, either, what with someone calling out his name every five minutes to do something. ( _Need help? Ask that blond guy over there. He can make ice._ ) So many people had learned his name in such a short time. It was kind of strange, but he didn't dwell on it.

He didn't want to think about anything whatsoever. He knew it would've been _so easy_ to just slip away unnoticed with John, maybe into the closest trees, maybe hundreds of miles away, and simply hold him close and refuse to let go. So what if he woke up pissed off and never wanted to see Bobby again? As far as Bobby was concerned, there would be no encore of John's disappearing act. He had already been burned too many times before, and the pyromaniac would _not_ get the chance to do it again.

But no, if Bobby had done that and let even _one_ emotion through, the rest would have flooded his senses to the point where he couldn't function. And he needed to function. All these people (who were now on a first-name basis with him) needed him to function. He couldn't be selfish and abandon them. They were hurting like he was, cut much more deeply than physically possible. So, no. He didn't want to feel anything right now about John or Marie or Jean or Scott or the Professor or--no no _no_. Just... No. He had to delay it for as long as possible, or at least long enough for him to escape and steal some time for himself. He couldn't let his guard down until all those eyes watching him were gone their separate ways and he found a place to be alone.

...Alone. Wait. Where's John?

Maybe Bobby's auto-pilot had worked _too_ well. John wasn't hidden behind that barricade anymore. ( _Don't panic. He couldn't have gotten far... What time is it now? When did he regain consciousness? If he got up and ran... How far could he get on foot? Does he have a concussion?_ )

After so many hours of not thinking, Bobby's brain went into overdrive, as if to make up for lost time. He made his rounds across the battlefield, eyes searching. To say the place was a mess would be an understatement, but at least most of the people (and bodies) had cleared out -- only a few stragglers left, and of those, most were clad in varying degrees of what were once pristine black leather uniforms like Bobby's own. It wasn't until he had climbed to the top of a ridge of ruins along one side that he saw it: a distant but familiar figure walking slowly along the (newly made) tree line, leaning heavily against each trunk until finally stopping and sinking down to the ground underneath the largest tree within view.

Bobby scrambled down the ridge, loose pebbles and debris cascading in his wake, and made a beeline for the old tree, never taking his eyes off the figure resting against it. Though it was the darkest hour of night and that entire area was especially shrouded in shadows, it called to him like a beacon of light. Bobby knew _he_ was waiting for him. He found an extra gear and picked up the pace.

When he got to that particular tree, however, he simply stopped and stood there. His mind had gone blank again, but it was different from earlier. He didn't know what to do or what to say or where to start. Bobby just knew he had to be _here_ , near _him_.

Then John looked up and made the first move, the corner of his lips lifting into a weak smile (a ghost of his trademark smirk) to say one thing while the storm in his eyes told Bobby so much more.

"You found me."

At that moment, Bobby decided thinking was overrated -- he abruptly dropped to his knees next to John, wrapped his arms around him, and buried his face into his chest. John hesitated, but only for a moment, before raising his own arms to pull Bobby in to lean on both himself and somewhat on the tree, his warm hands slowly tracing small circles on Bobby's back. 

Bobby couldn't hold back any longer, but then, he didn't need to anymore. He let all his masks fall away to expose the maze of raw emotions hidden deep within. He felt John's grip tighten and his head lower to Bobby's shoulder blade as he too let go of everything bottled up during their months apart and even before that. They were sharing the very core of themselves with each other, but it was okay. They were both close enough to being alone as they dared to be for a very long time to come.

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt: X-Men, Pyro/Iceman, Hold you in my arms  
> I just wanted to hold  
> You in my arms (Muse - Starlight)  
> The theme: Free for all (none/any)  
> Originally posted [here](http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/121336.html?thread=26201592#t26201592).  
> I only own the writing.
> 
> With my permission, fakeSalome has kindly translated this story into Chinese (2014/7). A link to that version is available in the notes at the top of this page.


End file.
